


You're Sure It Wasn't Food Poisoning, Angela?

by TheDarkFlygon



Series: Autumn Fever (Whumptober 2020) [9]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, Stomach Ache, Whumptober 2020, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: The kid wasn't fine, but now, all she can do is feel guilty about it.
Relationships: Cheren (Pokemon) & Original Character(s), Sirnight | Gardevoir & Original Character(s)
Series: Autumn Fever (Whumptober 2020) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966432





	You're Sure It Wasn't Food Poisoning, Angela?

**Author's Note:**

> You'll be absolutely lost if you haven't read my other fic "Last Resorts" before reading this one, so I advise you go there first if you really want to read this. (which, you know, good on you if you do).
> 
> Y'all knew that I'd jump on "Belly Ache" to write more COT or Last Resorts content didcha.  
> I actually wanted to focus more on the whump aspect, but since I still have a lot of Last Resorts to write once Whumptober is over or I've caught up with my lateness, it'll have to wait. In the meantime, you can have a scene that I probably won't be including in that form in LR proper, albeit it'd be set between chapters 2 and 3 of that story.

Angela never knew she was a sympathetic bellyacher, or even that the concept even existed, but lo and behold, there she is, feeling her abdomen tense and ache in either sympathy or guilt. Most likely a churning mixture of both.

Arceus, she knew this was going to end badly. The moment she saw the kid enter the office with his face paler than Reshiram’s feathering, clutching his stomach like he needed to stop a deep gash from bleeding, his Gardevoir anxiously fretting over him like she was carrying a glass statue around the school.

To be fair to poor, panicked Magdalene, Cheren looked like he was about to kneel at any moment. Her fear was more than justified. Actually, her fears are still more than justified, since she’s still fretting all over the infirmary with that distressed aura of hers.

Of course things would go in the worst way possible. There was no way they wouldn’t. After all, who’d win? A sixteen-year-old, way-too-overworking-for-his-age Gym Leader who also teaches to a bunch of younger teenagers or one hell of an appendicitis? (No, it wasn’t food poisoning, Cheren).

The kid himself knew he’d end up in a terrible position, considering he was trying to convince himself that, no, it wasn’t what he thought it was, that it could just be his non-existent dinner from yesterday giving him trouble; but you can’t get food poisoning over healthy food you never ate. That seems logical and easy enough to understand, and yet, he was still trying to convince himself of an unbelievable lie with a quivering voice and watering eyes.

She should’ve stopped him as soon as he had the idea that his health mattered less than some inspection.

She should’ve have pulled out the big guns against the inspector and made _him_ out of commission so Cheren wouldn’t have to pull himself through that.

She should’ve punched _someone_ with just enough strength in the gut and incapacitated him enough so he wouldn’t resist her calling an ambulance on him.

(The rational part of her knows that’d have done more harm than good and Magdalene’s aura meddling with her internal thoughts isn’t making her rash regrets sound any better in her head. Of course hurting the kid would have worsened the situation).

She was the adult there, and yet she didn’t do anything. Her responsibilities are making her stomach burn with the fire of guilt and hatred. Yeah, sure, they’re all at fault here, Cheren for being reckless and not listening to a doctor’s advice, Owen for being a morally bankrupt jackass who can’t realize what he’s doing is more than morally reprehensible, and her for not having insisted until it was almost too late to act.

But seriously, that’s still hypocritical on her part. Cheren’s a kid. Of course he felt pressured into doing something against his survival instinct if it meant saving his ass from social repercussions. Like any good teacher would do, he put his students before himself, and that brought him to his knees and last defences. Seeing that kid break down from his professional façade and crumbling into tears was one of the worst experiences in her life and, if he survives the endeavour, she’ll never let it happen ever again.

Now, that inspector? Oh, she wants to bash his head in just as much as she wants to slap herself for letting things get this desperate. That man managed to stare with a cold-blooded stare at a teenager clutching his stomach in agony and, worse of all, to tell him to suck it up and deal with it later, as if an appendicitis was even allowing him to do so. Truly a monster who shouldn’t have been near a classroom, ever.

Her anxiety is eating at her and she can tell Magdalene isn’t doing much better in that front. Gardevoir may be a collected species known for impressive telekinetic feats, it doesn’t prevent it from feeling strong emotions – and Magda is far from an exception. She’s the most emotional creature Angela has seen in a while, even compared to the students she sometimes welcomes in her office. Emotional enough that she must have felt a part of her Trainer’s pain as it kept flaring up.

Poor Magda is a bit fatigued, she can tell by how low she’s hovering around and how quiet she is. Usually, Magda likes to speak to her through telepathy, usually about what she’s discovered today about the human world or the highlights of Cheren’s classes according to her (amusingly, they’re always things Cheren thought could be improved or are meaningless), and Angela responds to her naïve curiosity with at least some enthusiasm… but Magda is silent, today.

She’s silent because they’re both worried.

_Is your stomach fine?_ She eventually asks, her voice meek and almost like a whisper. That’s weird, coming from Magda whose telepathic voice is always pretty loud.

“You’re asking that to me?” She half-heartedly chuckles. “…Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be, at the very least. It’s just a little stress stomach-ache.”

Magda doesn’t seem convinced, judging by how low her head is hanging.

“It’s nothing like the kid’s gone through, don’t worry for me. You’ve got more than enough on your plate with your Trainer. He’s gonna need you when he gets out of the OR, believe me, especially with that mentality of his.”

 _If_ he gets out of the OR alive, that is, but man is she never going to admit to her fear of seeing the brat pass away at such an age from such an affliction to his panicked Gardevoir.

_Cheren can die?_

She forgot Magdalene could read thoughts.

“He… he’s going to get out there alive,” she tries to backpedal. “I’m just being pessimistic, as always. Makes it easier to handle things when they go to shit.”

_You said Cheren could die._

Magdalene isn’t near dropping the matter.

“There’s no way you’re going to let go, are you?” She nods. “Yeah, he could die, technically speaking. A ruptured appendix is something to fear and so is the resulting risk of sepsis or, worse, sceptic shock. He’s young, so I don’t believe he’s going to die from it, but the risk is there, especially since he’s sleep-deprived, famished and dehydrated.”

Oh Zekrom, she can feel Magdalene peer into her soul.

“All we can do is wait, I’m afraid. I don’t have eyes everywhere and so do you.”

Then the phone rings and Angela forgets about any conversation she may have been in.


End file.
